Names and Titles
by Jesusrocks
Summary: Short introspective as Inara contemplates the names and titles she's held over the years. After Miranda, one title means the most. / Takes place about 2 years after Serenity. Established MalxInara, but not the main focus.


AN: I've had this in my completed folder for a while so I figured I should post it. I think this has been beta'ed but I'm not sure; either way all mistakes are still mine. Enjoy!

Inara sighed deeply as she stared at the ceiling of the bedroom, the events of the day playing over in her mind like a movie. She pulled the blankets tighter around her as she shivered, remembering the horrible meeting with Atherton earlier and his taunts as Mal and Jayne threw him from the cargo bay before blasting off Persephone.

_"Get off my ship," Mal stated slowly, staring down Atherton with his hand casually resting on his gun. Atherton scoffed and looked around Mal and Jayne, the human barrier separating him from Inara._

_"You said 'no' to me once, don't make the mistake of refusing me again," he leveled at her, a snarl playing at his lips._

_"This is my home tuófēng húndàn—the mistake is thinking you own me," she retorted, standing straight and looking him in the eye. His snarl deepened._

_"You whore!" he yelled and cursed at her but before he could finish his breath, Mal and Jayne punched him: one to the jaw and one to the stomach. The crunch echoed through the bay as Atherton fell to the floor in a disgraceful lump, wheezing as he cradled his stomach and massaged his jaw._

_"Jayne," Mal asked as he shook out his hand from the punch, "help me take out the trash?"_

_"Thought that was the woman's job," Jayne retorted as he grabbed a handful of Atherton's coat while Mal took hold of his arm. Together they threw him out the back and into the mud and rain. Mal slammed his fist against the hatch button and slowly the ramp curled up into Serenity._

_"It doesn't matter how far you run, you'll always be a dirty tramp," Atherton's voice carried over the hatch and the words settled themselves into her mind._

She had been called many things in her lifetime; she had gone by many names and many titles. One of her first was 'Daughter', followed shortly by 'Miss' by the servants. When she was old enough to accompany her father and mother to parties she was greeted as the reputable daughter of a highly respected man in society.

As she grew older, her names changed with the tides of time. While she was in school she was known as 'Inara' and once she chose her path in life she was greeted with smiles and the sweet sounds of the title 'future Companion'. While at the Training House she became 'Nu sheng' or 'Shíxí sheng' and adhered to the laws of her new guild, soon earning the title 'Companion'.

She studied the art and mastery of being a Companion and soon her name was whispered in honor throughout the Core as she gained respectability in her new job. Her parents were thrilled with her choice of becoming a Companion and her friends fawned over her clothes and the tools of her trade. For a while, the title 'Companion' was everything she thought it would be and more.

It took three and a half years before someone bequeathed her with the title 'whore'. The wife of a prestigious client found out about her services for her husband and confronted her. It wasn't a debate or even a fight; the woman had walked right up and called her a whore without any preamble before turning away. Inara never saw her or her husband again. Since then her hearing became attuned to the new names other bestowed upon her. 'Whore' was the most popular closely followed by 'slut' and the crasser 'prostitute'.

When she first met Mal and he insulted her and the government in one sentence, she almost expected it from the soldier-turned-captain Browncoat. She rolled her eyes as he mentioned her, and the other 'whores', with a tight lip on his smug face. It had taken her until their second meeting, as she moved into her new shuttle and he barged in to make sure she had settled in properly, to realize he never titled her as a 'whore' but saw her for who she was. He referred to her job in the vulgar sense but her, her he called 'Inara'. Years later, she would come to realize that the members of Serenity were the only ones who saw her for who she was, not for the job she performed.

Other clients would title her what they saw her as; a respectable Companion, a bought-and-paid-for prostitute, a temporary partner. Some, like Atherton, offered to keep her as their own personal Companion for use whenever they wanted. At their hand, she could have been lavished with the finest clothing and luxuries credits could buy, invited to the grandest balls they could manage, and she would be back in the Core and not out on the Outer Rim planets that were barely terraformed enough for basic life.

That was then. This was now. Now—when the memories of Miranda lingered in unspoken thoughts, when Zoe was still a ghost of the vibrant person she used to be because Wash was gone, and when two of their number and many friends now lay cold in the ground. Now—after her ties and loyalties to the Alliance had fallen away like a wilted flower losing its petals in the late fall and the only connections and allegiances she felt was with her shipmates—those the Alliance called 'criminal'. All because of Miranda. Two years came and went but she still awoke in the middle of the night reliving the terrors; they all did.

Now all she wanted was to stay away from the Core, to stay away from the politics and the people and the media still buzzing over the broadcast. She wanted to float in the Black for as long as she could, to be on those backwater planets she used to despise, to see no one new for weeks at a time. She wanted to be close to the people who understood and knew her.

Inara turned in bed and Mal's arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close in his sleep, his features softened by a small smile playing at his lips. She gently traced his jawline, his skin like a rough silk under her wandering fingers and his even breath blew across her skin and tickled slightly. She couldn't help but smile.

She had been called many names and titles in her life and many people used those epitaphs without a thought but only one was allowed a special title, a title she cherished almost as much as the person. Only Mal could call her 'wife'.

*Tuófēng húndàn - you humping bastard

AN 2: If you liked it please review and if you feel the need to flame, please flame responsibly :)


End file.
